The Grasps of My Enemy
by ItsABreeThing
Summary: In the midst of the battle between the Equalist and benders, Avatar Korra finds an unlikely companion in it all. What happens when Korra finds herself falling in love with a man destroying and threatening the people and city she loves? Korra finds herself in conflict between Amon, her greatest adversary and enemy, and her duties as the Avatar to defeat him.


To be in the grasp of my enemy. Spirits know I should be petrified at the thought. Spirits know I used to – and still do- have nightmares about it. The image of Amon, his mask blazoned with formidable confidence, is the only force in this world that makes me question my ability as the Avatar. Me, the Avatar. Avatar Korra. I seem so unaffected by anything that dares to threaten me. I have this cockiness and unrelenting drive to the duties of an Avatar that I embrace infinitely. I couldn't fathom my life in any other way. Sure the White Lotus tends to be a pain in my ass, but I'm committed to protecting the people I love and serving the purpose of what the Spirits intended me for: balance and peace for this vulnerable world.

So despite my headstrong disposition and fierce spirit, how could this man possibly make me question my confidence? It's the fact that any moment he could take away that source of my confidence. What makes me the Avatar can easily be stolen by this masked man as a reminiscence of what I used to be. My bending fuels my determination, not to mention bragging rights for any imbecile that challenges me otherwise. All (yet to be fully acquired) four elements, water, earth, fire and air, with a firm grasp on the forehead, gone. Just like that. His own flame of confidence impudent to mine that can easily engulf. No matter what I do to try and overcome his ominous and intimidating facade my volition to stop him just isn't strong enough. I could chuck out shards of ice, fistfuls of earth, bullets of fire and measly puffs of air (at least for now) at this man while he was blindfolded and hanging upside down from a tree. However, being Amon, he'd get away with barely a scratch. Not to mention his air-headed self would remain fat with pride. But damn it, Korra, this has got to be the most frustrating challenge you have ever had to face.

I'm scared of this man… yet I'm in the depths of his bed after late hours of forbidden intimacy. And he's here, nestled in the covers, still as a brick, breathing softly by my side. The soothing melody dances across the room. I wasn't deflowered by my greatest enemy, spirits no. Although the love bites, bruises, dried saliva and lingering shivers from the lust filled memories would say otherwise. Either way, I'm not sure if those few hours were worth the guilt and shame eating me up at this moment.

There's honestly nothing to do but drown in my regret. I stare at the blackened walls of Amon's room. His sheets envelop my limbs. Lights breaths of his slumber continue to lick the air. What in the world did I get myself into? Sure, it's something I had faintly fantasized in the back of my mind. As innocent as the years of shelter in the South Pole had made me, the fact that I'm 17 and raging with hormonal energy could have something to do with it. I had only one kiss other than Mako, which, to recap, ended horribly when Bolin, dried snot in complete shock and all, caught us. Back at the South Pole, when I was fourteen, with a boy I had known since childhood. It was simply an impulse, knowing that it was of few, rare occasions I could escape the White Lotus's supervision. Awkward and naïve are the only words I can use to describe it… But with Amon, it was nothing of the sort. It was always a dark fantasy to be romantically involved with him. It was guiltily dark and extremely scandalous. I guess it's not a fantasy anymore since it came true…

The tension was always there. That lure. The sexual attraction the very first encounter we had in Republic City. We both fought for completely different ideals with power. Amon, power in his fear he inflicts in all benders. Me, the Avatar with power in strength in all three, and working on four, elements to defeat him and the Equalists in order to restore equality within the boundaries of this severed city. Even more so, with my daring declaration to challenge at Aang Memorial when we came face to face, the tension heightened. I realized then, as he grasped my chin, his eyes blackened in a domineering composure, that my greatest enemy sent fearful shivers of mystifying desire. Even as I bawled in absolute frustration on how I could ever overcome my greatest adversary, I was conflicted on what I felt. The trembling dread that Amon inflicted in me and culpable draw I had towards him clashed.

So, I suppose after the Fire Ferret match, heading back to the safe sanctuary of Air Temple Island when I got ambushed, fled for my life, wrecking swarms of Equalists with all the strength a "half-baked avatar" could give and eventually ending up face to face with Amon was only a catalyst to fuel the desire I had felt. And apparently, for him as well. When he knocked me in a stealthy sweep to my knees, I thought was a goner. He performed his iconic thumb on the forehead, hand upon the shoulder move. His robes skittering in the crisp night as he halted any movement from me. I feared for my bending. Heck, I feared for my life. Yet, I guess he was true to his words when he uttered in a fazing tone that he'd save me for last. When I noticed his lack of action, I took it upon myself to punch a fistful of fire into his pompous chest. Of course, he just had to dodge and a round of chi blocking crippled me making it nearly impossible to even stand. When I plopped to the moist ground, flipped over by my enemy, bound by all fours, that strange arousal lit up again. Heart pulsing, both of ours really, and the adulterated hormones that plagued us both, I guess, ended up to a passionate session of kissing. I could blame Mako's rejection as second best to Asami also played a part in my angry lust…

I couldn't help but be even drawn into the immoral act as his strong hands gripped my jawline, my chest pressed against his. That same insane passion he used to degrade benders was being used towards me. I could feel his hate towards everything I loved as a bender as he clawed my battered skin and gripped my waist. I made sure he could feel that same hate I felt towards this same man. This was the same monster that stripped others of their pride and joy. Their livelihood and strength that they drew in bending as he remorselessly snatched it away. I kissed with a pressure that ached, despite my body the consistency of Bolin's favorite, water-drenched noodles, biting harshly with every intake. I guess he had enough when after receiving bruises of his own. Knowing how late it was, in my condition, returning home probably wasn't the best. At least to him, knocking me out, taking me home to his Equalist base and handcuffing me to his bed was the only option. It's not exactly a tactful move I'd expect from a strategic madman such as Amon. But of course the crazy bastard got away with it. And still, I'm here, reflecting on the deeds of these past few hours.

I want him to wake up, but then again I'm mortified if he does. Poor Tenzin is probably concerned out of his mind. Well, angry first then concerned. That sounds more like him. I can't possibly explain what had happened tonight, but I shouldn't hide it either. I'll leave it up to me to decide once I get the heck out of these handcuffs.

I wriggle my wrists for the hundredth time. My bending has returned from the previous hours. Sadly, there's absolutely zero earth in proximity of this metal encrusted lair and my head is at an angle where I can't simply sever the cuffs with an icy frost to be released from my lips. So basically, even as the almighty Avatar, I can't escape this predicament. The most I could do is turn the bed into a bonfire using my feet, but that wouldn't benefit anyone.

It's surprising, even in the depths of sleep; Amon has his mask still on. No doubt, because I'm here, but it's eerie to see the most vulnerable state in a person and his defenses are still up. He still has that look of implacable resolve on that mask, adding to the fear for which I have for him. Does he always have to look so impervious and incapable of weakness?

My thoughts are abruptly interrupted when his soft breaths seize. I don't know what to expect now. Based on the slight shuffling, he's awake and my heart thuds violently. My body instantly tenses.

"Avatar", he echoes in the silent room. "Awake so soon?"


End file.
